


Favor

by GiggleSnortBangDead



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hospitals, Rimming, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 08:24:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiggleSnortBangDead/pseuds/GiggleSnortBangDead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was so happy that he had been picked for the role of Lydia’s paramour that he never outright objected to how out of the ordinary some of her requests were.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Favor

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place a little bit before the show starts.

Stiles was okay with being the other man, especially for Lydia. If Lydia so decided that she wanted another person on the side, an easy person, down for anything, that she didn’t have to dumb herself down for, Stiles was more than happy to be him. It was an honor, really.

He got to know all of Lydia’s little kinks, the secrets she kept from Jackson - and Stiles felt lucky to count himself among those secrets. (At least, he thought he was. Jackson didn’t seem like the type to share, so, had Lydia’s actual boyfriend known, Stiles would have been well aware.) Lydia did and got all the things she couldn’t do or get from Jackson when she was with Stiles. And he was so happy that he had been picked for the role of Lydia’s paramour that he never outright objected to how out of the ordinary some of her requests were. 

Lydia liked it illegal. This was no shock, seeing as most people found the taboo, the prohibited, very appealing. Hell, he was the sheriff’s kid - he could definitely see the allure. Lydia acted on it, though, regularly and unapologetically. She was smart, she was pretty, she was rich, and she was young - it only made sense that she’d see decency laws as suggestions when it came to her fun.

And it wasn’t just oral in dark movie theaters or trysts in photo booths. They’d done those both and they were nice. Stiles liked those just fine, but Lydia was insatiable. She was constantly dragging him into public bathrooms (only really nice bathrooms, of course), or taking him in his jeep, stationed at the entrance of a public park at four in the afternoon. A few times, she’d brought him over to her house and there’d already been some other person - man, woman, older, younger was a detail that always varied with Lydia - that he’d soon understand was a hooker. He’d always worry for the next few days that, when he’d go down to the station to see his dad, he’d see them sitting there. 

Stiles was not being completely foolish with this. He understood that what was going on between him and Lydia was not romantic, or even friendly. It was purely sexual - but it was all Stiles could imagine having with her when Jackson was in the picture. It was easy to look at her, to talk to her, or bury himself inside of her and know that she loved Jackson more than nearly anything. Despite her little indiscretion with Stiles, Jackson was her man and, as much as they might act like they didn’t, they were in love. His importance in Lydia’s life was placed below Jackson's, but it was existent, which fed the wanting creature inside of Stiles and helped him cope with loneliness. 

And Stiles knew he was being used. Lydia had probably very carefully studied the males around her and found him to have the best convenience to attractiveness ratio. He was easy, ready at her command, and wasn’t terrible to look at. And, if she moaned out any name during the act, it was nine out of ten times his own, which must have meant she liked him a little.

Along with this, Stiles knew that he was fulfilling something necessary for her. He was necessary, He was certain that the sex she had with Jackson was fine - excellent, even. But, Lydia had a desire to dominate, to control something completely. And Jackson, despite his love for her, was his own man, while Stiles was exclusively her's. He would do anything she said, follow her to the ends of the earth, and fuck her in Macy’s second floor bathroom, despite it being far too public for his comfort, should she ask. Sometimes, he thought, she was only interested in all of these debauched things because she wanted to see how far she cold push him. 

Apparently, it was pretty far, because she dragged him into Beacon Hills Hospital and, despite how completely and totally wrong it as, convinced him to have sex with her in front of a coma patient. 

“Lydia,” he whispered as they crept through the hallway. Or, rather, as he crept and she walked with confidence in her ridiculously high, ridiculously loud heels. “What are we doing here? I thought tonight was movie night. You know - I give you head on the floor of a shady movie theater and you see that movie about attractive young people falling in love?”

“I thought of something better.”

“Better than movie night?” Stiles asked, trying to convey that he seriously didn’t think anything in a hospital could better.

“Mm-hm.” she nodded. “The room is just over here.” She lead him even more down the hall.

“Oh, no.” Stiles moaned. “Please don’t tell me we’re sneaking into an empty hospital room to have sex.”

“We’re not.” Lydia said, sounding irritated. 

Stiles let out a sigh of relief. “Good.”

“It’s not empty.” she explained.

“ _What?_ ” Stiles nearly shouted and she had to shush him.

“Stiles, please, this is a hospital.” she reminded him.

“ _Yes_.” he agreed. “It _is_. We can’t just-”

She stopped and turned to look at him fiercely. “You always say that. Those three little words. “We can’t just...” Well, Stiles, we can and we will unless _you_ want to go home. Which you are always free to do if you’re too uncomfortable.” And it was a challenge. Of course it was a challenge. Like all the other crazy things she talked him into doing.

“Fine.” he grit out between clenched teeth. “Whatever. Lead on, O Wanton Mistress of the Night.”

“Please,” she rolled her eyes, turning to move forward again. “It’s hardly five. Much too early to consider this night.”

“Not the point.” Stiles murmured, but slowed with her as she approached the door. She craned her head up, look through the little window.

“Now,” she said. “No one should be coming by for a while. If we keep this quick and quiet, no one should see us. Do you think you can handle that?”

“You’re asking me, a teenage boy, if I can be quick?”

She snorted and turned the door handle, pushing in. “I’m more worried about _quiet_.”

Stiles got the first look at the patient. He had imagined that Lydia had just bribed some lonely, bed-ridden geriatric let them bone in their room. He had not thought there would be an unmoving, possibly asleep, man seated in wheelchair, facing the window. Lydia wheeled him to inclined to the bed and Stiles saw two things. One, that the man’s eyes were open. Two, that the entire side of his face was covered in burn marks. Stiles didn’t even try to hide his staring. 

“Don’t ask me how I found him.” Lydia said, already slipping off her panties from under her dress. She placed them on the arm rest of the man's chair. Stiles followed her lead, unzipping his jeans, not wanting to keep her waiting. “I came in for a check up and stumbled upon him.”

“Can he see us? Is he conscious?” Stiles stopped his movement to better watch the man for any sign of awareness.

“It’s possible,” Lydia allowed, and she moved to the hospital cot, sitting down. “I don’t know.”

“Okay, Lydia, I’m putting my foot down at possibly conscious coma patients. I really doubt this guy wants to watch us have sex. This is wrong.”

She laughed, a high, arrogant trill. “Oh, Stiles, listen to yourself. If you couldn’t move, wouldn’t you want a little entertainment? Besides, there’s a possibility he can’t see or hear us anyway. There’s nothing to worry about - except getting caught, which may very well happen if you don’t stop talking an take your clothes off.” She ended with a stern look. 

Stiles sighed, still feeling a little reserved about the whole situation, but kicked off his jeans. When Lydia raised her eyebrows, he glanced once at the man in the chair, before stripping off his shirt and boxers as well.

Lydia smiled at him, a gesture far too sweet for what they were doing, and pat the spot net to her. Stiles filled it immediately, like a good lapdog would.

She kissed him for the first time that afternoon, soft and slow, her tongue opening up his mouth, her being dominating his. It didn’t last long before she pulled back and spoke.

“I want to try something new,” Lydia said. “Get on your knees and elbows.”

Stiles did this and soon felt her hands spreading him open to expose his hole. One finger lightly brushed over it and he knew she was staring. He felt more than uncomfortable under such intense scrutiny, but Lydia liked fully taking things in, studying them. He didn’t have to wait too long before she pressed her open mouth against his rim.

The sound he made was high pitched and surprised and fully aroused. She wiggled her tongue around the edge as he gasped, “I thought you said we need to be quick.” He ventured a look at her over his shoulder. 

She pulled back, looking a little annoyed to be stopped, and stated, “It will only take a minute. I just want to try it.” She dipped her head again and Stiles _whined_ , making her huff a little sound of amusement. He looked away from her and had his gaze stolen by the man in the chair, sitting closer to the bed than Stiles felt comfortable with. His blue eyes captured Stiles’s and Stiles knew for certain, just in that moment, that the man was fully conscious, watching them attentively. He moaned helplessly as Lydia’s tongue pushed inside, her perfect, manicured fingers still spreading his cheeks apart. Pulling her tongue out, she licked one last line from his perineum to his hole before sitting back.

“We should probably do this now.” she said, maneuvering him to a seated position. She dipped her fingers into her bra and produced a condom. Tearing the packet open, she glanced over at the man. 

Lydia unrolled the plastic onto his cock before murmuring, hushed and fast into his ear, “I like the idea of him watching. It must be so boring to be trapped inside your body like that. I would go crazy. I’m sure if I was him, I’d be overjoyed right now. We’re a break in his monotony. We’re doing him a _favor_ , Stiles. Don’t worry so much.”

“Right,” Stiles said, as Lydia straddled him and lowered herself down. She sighed, when he was all the way in, before bouncing up once. Stiles groaned and grasped at her hips. Her eyes were still locked on the man as she picked up a quick but comfortable rhythm for them. 

“He’s handsome,” she observed. “If you ignore the scars.”

Stiles turned his head to better looked at the man. Squinting, his eyes focusing on the intact side of his face. He agreed in a strained, muted voice, “Yeah. He is.”

Lydia hummed in approval, looking down at him finally. “Jackson would never agree to something like that. That’s one of the reasons I like you so much. You have nothing to prove.”

While Stiles didn’t feel that was totally true, he accepted he compliment. From time to time, Lydia would compare him to her actual boyfriend and, sometimes, it would be in praise of Stiles. He liked it when Lydia acknowledged how good he was - how he could please her more than Jackson could.

She leaned down to kiss him and he groaned into her mouth, his hips snapping up more erratically, feeling his release build and coil through him. She noticed this and rocked her hips down harder, her head tilted to the side and her eyes once again stuck on the man. Her fingers dipped between them for her to touch herself while her other hand was placed on Stiles’s shoulder to steady herself. 

As she continued to ride Stiles’s cock and pet herself, her body began to tense. Her eyes drifted shut and her hold on him tightened. She let out a small huffy breath and smiled in the slightest way as she came, her head thrown back. She urged him, a moment later as she was coming down, her hand on his shoulder moving up to toy with the sweat slick hairs on the back of his neck, to come as well. He needed no other encouragement to send him over the edge, thrusting up into her a few more times as he rode out his own orgasm.

She was panting as she pulled off of him, her eyes darting between Stiles and the man. Stiles disposed of the condom and scrambled for his clothes, tugging them back on quickly.

“This going to become a thing?” he asked, as she stared intently at the man. She looked at him, as if startled to see he was there. After a moment, she shook her head.

“No, it’s not.”

“Okay.” he said, not sure why he felt a little disappointed. She finally stood, picking up her lace panties and sliding them back on.

“We can probably still catch that movie if we hurry.” she said, turning on her heel and heading out the door. Stiles followed behind her, only throwing one last glance to the man in the chair.

Neither of them noticed the gentle, struggling raise of the man’s finger or sense that a wolf had latched onto them.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, more smut. 'Cause I have to get on a plane tomorrow. Ugh. Planes. 
> 
> Uhm, maybe I might kinda want to add, maybe, some more of this, maybe. I don't know. But, this is it for now. But, uhm, I mean, I really like Peter/Lydia/Stiles, so, maybe... 
> 
> But, I hope this was alright and you guys like it okay.


End file.
